The Mouse-hole, and the Underground Kingdom

Long, long ago, in a kingdom far away, there reigned a wise king who had three sons. When the princes had grown up and been trained in all that befits royal youth, they came one day to their father and said, "Our kingly father, allow us to visit strange lands, for we already know our own country well."

"Yes, it is fitting," answered the king wisely, "for royal princes should know more than any of my subjects. I grant your request, but on one condition. You are all of an age when most men seek a life partner, and I suspect you intend to do the same. I have no wish to dictate which princesses you should love, but I ask this: return before a year and a day, and bring me a gift—not necessarily costly, but precious—from your chosen ones."

The princes were astonished that their father had read their thoughts so accurately, and they agreed without hesitation. Then they took their crossbows and went to an open field. The eldest son let his bowstring go, and the arrow flew to the east. The second son let his string go, and the arrow flew to the west.

"And where shall I aim?" cried the youngest, whose name was Yarmil. At that very moment a mouse ran near him to its hole, so he let his string go, and the arrow flew after the mouse.

"Oh, thoughtless fellow!" said the eldest prince in rebuke. "Now you must go to the mouse-hole."

"So be it," answered Yarmil, and shrugged his shoulders.

They went home, prepared for the journey, and the next day they set out: the eldest to the east, the second to the west, and Yarmil to the mouse-hole. Up to that moment he had considered it a jest, but how astonished he was when, as he drew near the place, the earth opened so that he could ride in comfortably, and sooner than he could think, he found himself in an open country, in the middle of which stood a white marble castle. Nowhere did he see a living soul, and he felt sure he would find no one in the castle. But scarcely had he entered the gate when a lady came forth to meet him. She was not only dressed in white, but her face, hair, and eyes—indeed, everything about her—were as white as newly fallen snow. She held by the bridle a spirited white steed, and without a word she indicated that Yarmil should dismount from his own horse and mount the white one.

But he had barely mounted the white steed when it rose into the air with him, heedless of the bit, and flew on until it brought him down before a splendid castle. Yarmil marveled, for the castle was so brilliant with gold and precious stones that he could hardly look at it. All around, as far as the eye could see, stretched a beautiful garden, where the most luxuriant trees grew, the most beautiful flowers bloomed, and birds of every color sang.

When he had recovered from his first surprise, Yarmil dismounted and wished to lead the steed to the castle, but it tore away, rose through the air, and vanished like a white dove among the clouds.

Full of expectation, Yarmil entered the castle. He knocked at the gate; there was no answer, but it opened of itself. He ascended broad marble steps to the door of the first chamber. Again he knocked; no answer, but the door opened. He entered, but how he wondered again! Such splendor surrounded him that he exclaimed, "My father is a far richer king, but this single chamber alone is worth more than his entire kingdom."

But if the first chamber was rich, the second was richer, and the splendor increased until he came to the eleventh, where there stood a great crystal tub with golden hoops, into which water clearer than crystal flowed through a golden pipe. In the twelfth chamber were only four bare walls, an ordinary ceiling, and a common floor, but in the middle of the floor stood a diamond pan. When Yarmil examined it more closely, he saw written on it: "Whoever wishes to liberate me must carry me next to his body and bathe me each day."

Driven by curiosity, Yarmil removed a diamond cover, then a golden one, and finally, with great effort, a silver one. But how frightened he was when beneath them appeared a great ugly toad! He wished to flee, but at that moment such terror seized him that, in spite of himself, he took the toad out of the pan and placed it in his bosom. The toad chilled him, yet in a moment he felt as happy as if he had saved someone from death. Straightway he went to the eleventh chamber, took the toad from his bosom, and washed it carefully. But to his great distress, he saw that it remained a toad, and the more he washed it, the uglier it grew. When he grew tired, he put it back in his bosom and went to the garden to cheer himself.

A sight of the trees and flowers, the fragrance of them, and the singing of the birds entertained him so much that midday came before he knew it. He returned to the castle, and there, to his great surprise, he saw in the first chamber a table covered with the most delicate dishes. He sat down with appetite, and when he had eaten to his content and drunk of the wine that an unseen hand had placed before him in a golden goblet, he confessed that he had never tasted at his father's table, even at the greatest festivals, such delicate dishes and such excellent wine.

Now he looked around the room with more care; the splendor did not charm him as much as at first, but the many musical instruments, writing implements, and beautiful books pleased him beyond measure, for he was skilled in every fine art.

After supper, which was as good as dinner, he lay on a soft bed and slept soundly until morning; then he ate a good meal that was on the table and spent the day as he had the one before. He was annoyed by his lonely life, but he soon drove away his troubles. He was grieved because the more he washed the toad, the uglier it grew; still he washed it with care and carried it in his bosom.

Now the year was drawing to a close, and he had to return to his father with a gift from his bride. He walked about the castle and garden like one deprived of reason; nothing could comfort him, but he did not forget to bathe the toad each day, and with greater care. When the last day of the year came, he did not know what to do. But as he walked through the room, he saw on his writing table a sheet of paper that had not been there before. He seized it quickly, and on it was written in black letters:

"Dear Yarmil, I love you unspeakably. But be patient, as I am patient. You have a gift for your father in the pan; give it to him, but do not tarry long at home. Put me back in the pan."

Yarmil hastened with joy to the twelfth chamber, took from the pan a rich casket set with diamonds, and put the toad in the pan. Then he ran out quickly, mounted the white steed, which was waiting and which rose into the air and flew regardless of bit until it stopped before the white castle. There the white lady gave Yarmil his own horse, took the white steed, and led it away.

In a short time Yarmil came to the great gate, and when he had ridden through and looked back, there was nothing behind but a mouse-hole. Putting spurs to his horse, he rushed on at a gallop and came to the gate of his father's castle almost at the same moment as his brothers, so that all three were able to appear together before their father and say, "Here we are, according to your command."

"But have you brought gifts from your princesses?" asked the king.

"Of course," cried the elder brothers proudly. Yarmil answered, as it were, timidly, with a nod, for he did not know what was in the casket taken from the pan.

The king had invited a great number of guests to look at the gifts. All were in the banqueting hall. The king led his sons thither, and when the feast was ended, he said to the eldest, "Now give me the gift from your princess."

"My love is the daughter of a great king," said the prince proudly, and he gave his father a casket containing a small mirror.

The king looked and wondered not a little at seeing his whole person. Then he said, "Well, men's hands can do everything."

The second son gave him an even smaller mirror, but the king saw his whole person in it. Still he only said, "Men's hands can do everything. But what has your princess sent me?" he asked Yarmil. In silence and timidly, Yarmil gave him the casket. The king barely looked in it when he cried in amazement, "That princess of yours has wealth in abundance; these diamonds alone are worth more than my kingdom." But he wondered even more when he took out a mirror, still smaller, from the casket. And he was truly frightened when, in a twinkle, a puppet sprang out and held the glass for him as soon as he looked at it, and the moment he stopped looking, the puppet disappeared.

"Oh," cried the king, "no human hand could have made that!" And embracing Yarmil, he added with tenderness, "You have brought me true joy, my son."

Yarmil recalled the ugly toad and had no regret now that he had spent a whole year with it. But his brothers and his mother, who was a witch and hated Yarmil, were enraged, though they hid their feelings.

When the feast was over and the princes were taking leave, the king said, "Go now with rejoicing, but return in a year and a day, and bring me portraits of your princesses."

The elder brothers promised with joy, but Yarmil only nodded, for he feared what his father would say if he brought a portrait of a toad. Still, he rode with his brothers beyond the town, where he parted from them and galloped on to the mouse-hole. He was just approaching when the ground opened to give him a good entrance. At the white castle, the white lady took his horse and gave him the white steed, which rose through the air and, regardless of bit, flew on until it reached the golden castle. Yarmil hurried to the twelfth chamber; the steed disappeared like a dove in the clouds.

In the castle, nothing had changed, and the diamond pan was standing in the twelfth chamber. Yarmil removed the three covers, took out the toad, and placed it in his bosom. Now he bathed it twice each day, but to his grief it grew uglier. How could he take a portrait of his princess to his father? He could paint the most beautiful lady, for he was very skilled in painting, but he would not deceive his father. Only the hope that the toad would help him as before gave him strength to endure the dreary life.

At last the day drew near when he must return to his father. He looked continually at his writing table until, to his great joy, he saw a sheet of paper on which was written in silver letters:

"Dear Yarmil, I love you unspeakably. Be patient, as I am patient. You have my portrait in the pan; give it to your father, but do not tarry long. Put me back in the pan."

Yarmil hastened to the twelfth chamber, found in the pan a casket still richer than the first. He took it quickly and put the toad in its place. Then he hurried forth, sat on the white steed, which brought him to the white castle, where the white lady gave him his own horse. When he had ridden through the gate and looked back, he saw nothing behind but a mouse-hole. He put spurs to his horse and rode to the gate of his father's castle at the same time as his brothers. They stood before their father and said, "Here we are, as you have commanded."

"Do you bring portraits of your princesses?" asked the king.

"Of course!" exclaimed the two elder brothers, full of pride. But Yarmil only answered with a nod, for he knew not what portrait the casket contained.

The king led them to the banqueting hall, where the guests were assembled. When the banquet was over, he said to the eldest, "Now show me the portrait of your princess."

The eldest brother gave a rich casket to his father. He opened it, took out a portrait, and looking at it from every side, said at last, "That is a beautiful lady; she pleases me. Still, there are fairer than she in the world, but any man might love her." Then he gave the portrait to the guests and said to his second son, "And the portrait of your princess?"

The second son gave him promptly a richer casket and smiled with happiness. He thought his father must be astonished at the beauty of his princess, but the king looked at her with indifference and said, "A beautiful lady too, but there are more beautiful in the world; still any man might fall in love with her."

Then he nodded to Yarmil, who gave with trembling hand his diamond casket. Scarcely had the king looked at it when he exclaimed, "Your princess must be rich beyond measure; your casket alone is worth twice my entire kingdom." But how he wondered when he took out the portrait! He looked fixedly at it for a while, unable to utter a word. Then he said with the greatest enthusiasm, "No, such a lady cannot be found in the world."

All the guests crowded around the portrait and in one voice agreed with the king. At last Yarmil drew near to look at his princess, unknown until that moment. Now he regretted no whit that he had spent two years in lonely life and nursing a toad, but his brothers and his mother were raging and envied him his princess.

The next day the princes were taking farewell, and the king said to them, "After this time I will not let you go again. In a year and a day I wish to see your princesses; then we will celebrate the weddings."

The two elder brothers were shouting with joy, but Yarmil answered no word. They took leave of their father and went together to the edge of the town, where they separated: the eldest went to the east, the second to the west, but Yarmil to the mouse-hole, which opened quickly to give him a convenient passage. At the white castle, the white lady gave him the white steed, which flew to the golden castle regardless of bit. There Yarmil descended, and the steed vanished like a dove in the clouds.

Full of hope, Yarmil hastened to the twelfth chamber, for he trusted to find there his wondrously fair princess whose portrait he had taken to his father. But he found in the pan the ugly toad, which he put in his bosom, and now washed three times each day. In vain was all his labor, for the more he bathed it, the uglier grew the toad. Had it not been for the portrait, he would have fled from the castle, and who knows what he might have done? Every day his strength decreased, and when the last day of the year drew near, it is a wonder that he did not despair; for the toad had become not only ugly beyond measure, but all mangy, so that he shivered when he looked at it. And now he must bring this to his father as his chosen one.

"My father will kill me!" he cried with grief and threw himself on the couch. He thought what to do but could come to no resolve. At last he reached into his bosom to look once more at the toad, hoping that at the sight of it a happy thought might come. But a new surprise—the toad was gone! Now he began to lament. He ran through the whole castle, searched every room, and in the garden every tree and bush, but found no trace of the toad.